Am I Too Late? || Kyoshi Kingdom AU

continued from @wielding-fansof-kyoshi

The girl swallowed hard. Everything she had planned to say, everything she wanted to say, escaped her mind and she was left standing there quietly. Dark eyes looked the woman up and down, blinded by how beautiful she was all dressed up and made up. Her hair was all done and her dress fit her perfectly in all the right places. The queen was breathtaking.

“H-hi…” she repeated again, “Wow…you look beautiful, Suki.” 

Lee, herself, looked a bit disheveled. She’d traveled all through the night to try to make it to the woman before she was lost forever. Her hair was falling from her braid and she looked exhausted and suddenly she felt shy about her appearance. Knowing the Queen was use to seeing her dressed in the beautiful silks as opposed to her simpler garments that she wore from home.

Then she started wondering, maybe it wasn’t right that she had come, perhaps… perhaps after her abandonment of the queen, she had moved on. Perhaps she loved this silly Watertribe Prince that she was to wed today.

Naked Armageddon Can’t Hope
you’re never as naked as a shadow
trying to avoid the blood

oh sweet armageddon
why do you not serve coffee
to the snarling fangs feasting
on life’s picnic

a glimmer of hope
before the shit
hits the proud fans
of modern society

we once had it
but now we are cloaked
never as naked as
the shadow
who can’t avoid
the blood.

by Margaret Atwood

All those times I was bored
out of my mind. Holding the log
while he sawed it. Holding
the string while he measured, boards,
distances between things, or pounded
stakes into the ground for rows and rows
of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored)
weeded. Or sat in the back
of the car, or sat still in boats,
sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel
he drove, steered, paddled. It
wasn’t even boredom, it was looking,
looking hard and up close at the small
details. Myopia. The worn gunwales,
the intricate twill of the seat
cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular
pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans
of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying
bristles on the back of his neck.
Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes
I would. The boring rhythm of doing
things over and over, carrying
the wood, drying
the dishes. Such minutiae. It’s what
the animals spend most of their time at,
ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels,
shuffling the leaves in their burrows. He pointed
such things out, and I would look
at the whorled texture of his square finger, earth under
the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier
all the time then, although it more often
rained, and more birdsong?
I could hardly wait to get
the hell out of there to
anywhere else. Perhaps though
boredom is happier. It is for dogs or
groundhogs. Now I wouldn’t be bored.
Now I would know too much.
Now I would know.

New Starts || closed

It had feel like decades before the pair was cleared from the hospital and Ty Lee went home with Suki. The newest task at hand trying to rebuild her life now with her home gone as well as her husband, having had him sent to his family for whatever arrangements they wanted, unable to bare it herself after everything. But now she had nothing. Until they were both well enough to bare moving furniture, Ty Lee crashed in Suki’s couch. The other Kyoshi Warriors were kind in her matter that all the girls who had clothes to spare in her size or slightly bigger, brought them for her to have. A couple even came to help move furniture from the office and help move some new furniture in; like a simple bed, a dresser and a couple night stands.

When everything was settled and their friends had left, Ty Lee gave a soft, tired sigh and sat on the bare matrice. She’d reached the point where her little belly was starting to press against her tops and was much more noticeable when she sat down, “At least we finally got this whole part done.” She smiled up at her. Most of her bruises had healed save for some yellowing on her face and torso. The only things that still really bothered her were her ribs and burns, “Thanks again for taking me in.”